Ron Weasley and the Polyjuice Pilferers
by Aelia Weasley
Summary: Ron is injured while on an important Ministry assignment.
1. Chapter 1

As he sat in the window seat on the Metro bus Ron was doing his best to be nondescript and look casual. He pressed his back to the window, propping one foot underneath himself so he could see up and down the aisle. He fiddled with the iLink card in his hand and kept the woman with the long black hair in his periphery. He shot a quick glance at Harry and received a nod. Harry was seated a few rows ahead where he could also see the woman with the black hair and the other suspect. After watching both people get on the same bus several days in a row, the two Aurors had decided to follow their suspects onto the bus to see if they'd lead them to the warehouse where the stolen goods were being made into Polyjuice potion.

The second suspect pulled the cord, requesting the driver to stop. Harry shot a look at Ron, who knit his brows together. As the bus slowed, Harry had a quick decision to make. He slightly nodded his head at Ron towards the front door of the bus. Ron thoughtfully chewed his lower lip and nodded again. As the bus slowed to a stop, Harry turned and stood from his seat, stepping past the passenger sitting next to him and followed the second suspect off the bus. The bus was pulling away from the curb when the suspect turned and he saw the wand in her hand. Harry pulled his own from its hiding place but before he could do another thing, he had to jump out of the way of the curse she hurled at him. He stood up, ready to fight back when he heard the shouting behind him. The curse had missed him and hit the bus driver in the back. He was now slumped forward over the steering wheel. Harry turned back and saw the witch ready to curse him again. He dove behind a dumpster and watched in horror as the full power of the curse hit the bus broadside and it tipped over. All at once, it was pandemonium. Passengers were screaming and struggling to climb out of the overturned vehicle. Harry's only thought was Ron, his best friend and partner was on that bus, now being crushed by the weight of humanity crawling to free itself out of the windows. He turned again and saw the suspect had Disapparated, leaving no trace behind.

Several days after the attack, Ron awoke. His vision was blurry as he forced his eyes open. Hermione's face came clear to him a few moments after. Worry was written clearly all over her tear-stained face. She gripped his left hand and was holding it to her cheek. He watched the tears rolling down her cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed him all over his face. He winced slightly. It was only then that he noticed that although her mouth was clearly moving, Ron couldn't hear anything she was saying. He watched her mouthing something repeatedly. He shook his head to show that he didn't understand. He went to push himself up in bed but he discovered his right arm was heavily bandaged in what felt like a hard shell. Hermione's eyes were wide with fear as she continued mouthing the same thing to him. Ron exhaled heavily and tried concentrating – willing his injured ears to heal Hermione leapt up with force- he saw, but did not hear, the stool she'd been sitting on clatter to the floor.

She turned for the door and was gone as he tried to call her back.

Ron looked around the pale white room, taking in his surroundings for the first time. It didn't look like the same sort of room his father had been in after Voldemort's snake attacked him in the Department of Mysteries. There were strange machines around him that he did not recognize. Suddenly, Ron became aware of the tubes up his nose helping him to breathe and the uncomfortable object clipped to the pointer finger of his left hand. A look out the window convinced him that wherever he was, he was not at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Hermione came charging back into the room with a Nurse in a crisp, white uniform. As the woman in white felt Ron's pulse, flicked a bright white light into his eyes and scribbled furiously on a flipchart that has been at Ron's feet, Hermione was pacing the same path of four steps, back and forth. He knew she was talking – her mouth never stopped moving and her hands were flying swiftly from her hair to her waist to an empty pantomime in front of her and back again. Ron tried to ascertain what in the world Hermione was saying but he remained stone deaf.

The nurse in white clapped her hands twice in front of Ron's face to draw his attention. She was holding up a sheet of paper which read:

 _Can you hear anything?_

Ron took a moment to read and shook his head.

The nurse nodded and took the paper back to write something else:

 _Are you in pain?_

Ron shrugged his shoulders. He was uncomfortable, but not in pain. The nurse and Hermione turned towards each other to speak and again, the nurse held up a note for him to read.

 _Your shoulder is dislocated, and your arm is broken. Broken ribs. Will run tests on your hearing. Otherwise, you're going to be fine. Sit tight._

Ron felt relieved to know he wasn't badly injured but the hearing loss was making him worry. He wracked his brain to remember what had happened to land him in a Muggle hospital. Hermione's back was to him; she was speaking to the nurse as she left the room, taking the paper she'd been writing on with her. Ron cleared his throat to get her attention. Hermione turned and was once again speaking words he couldn't hear and gesturing wildly. Frustrated, he shook his head and motioned to his ears with his left hand. She suddenly stopped and held her hands to her chest in a motion that he understood to be an apology. She quickly looked over her shoulder as she pulled her wand out of her boot and conjured a notepad and pen. She casually stowed her wand back in its hiding place and started writing a note to him.

 _I love you. I was so scared. You're at Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast._

Ron tried speaking but his throat burned. He motioned for her to hand him the notepad. He used his left hand to scrawl:

 _Love u 2. How long? Why can't I hear? Where's Harry? Mum + Dad?_

He sighed, exhausted. She took the pad from him and replied beneath each of his questions in her own tidy handwriting:

 _How long?_

 _Three days_

 _Where's Harry?_

 _He was here, was called away by K.S. –_ Ron immediately recognized the initials of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic.

 _Mum + Dad_

 _They're here too, in the chapel_

As Ron read her replies, he became agitated, she hadn't answered the most important question. He drew five lines under the question about his hearing and shoved the notepad back to her. Her response was a sad and simple

 _I don't know._

The nurse in white returned a short time later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at her heels. Hermione stepped aside to let Mrs. Weasley sit at Ron's side. His parents were speaking, but Ron still could not hear and was growing agitated. He watched helplessly as the nurse spoke to his parents and Hermione. He tried to gauge his condition by their facial expressions. His mother's was pale and grave but his father and Hermione both appeared to look relieved. When the nurse left, Mr. Weasley took to writing Ron a note that made him laugh.

 _Fascinating things – these Muggle Healers_

Ron's ribs ached from the short laugh he was able to muster. If the Nurse had told them he was dying, he doubted that would be the first thing his father would say.

Mrs. Weasley snatched the notepad and pen from her husband's hands and she puzzled a moment at the pen. She then wrote:

 _Are you in pain son?_

Ron shook his head but motioned pouring something into his mouth mouthing "water".

An instant later, Hermione handed him a chilled glass of water that soothed his throat tremendously. Ron coughed and sipped more water before trying to speak. He couldn't hear himself but all three of them exchanged glances letting him know they understood him.

"What happened?"

Hermione took the notepad from Mrs. Weasley.

 _You don't remember anything?_

Ron shook his head. He pursed his lips and knit his brows together trying to think. He'd been in a taxi – no, a train – no it was a bus. In Belfast. He and Harry were trailing someone. A woman with long dark hair. That's as much as he remembered.

"The bus." Ron croaked. "Where's Harry?"

Hermione wrote

 _Do you remember the accident?_

Ron shook his head. They were interrupted by the same nurse as before and one other in the same crisp, white uniform. They spoke to the three Weasleys and Hermione as if Ron could hear, which he found deeply frustrating.

Hermione wrote him a quick note as the two nurses began to wheel his sick bed out the door.

 _Tests for ears – should be quick. I'll ring Harry._

Ron nodded and gave them all a thumbs up. He lay back and stared up at the ceiling tiles while the two nurses quickly and expertly maneuvered his bed around the halls. The fluorescent lights began to spark a headache behind his eyes. The speed of the motion of his moving bed was giving him a light head. The more lightheaded he became, the more positive he was that the contents of his stomach were unlikely to stay there. A sudden burst of pain erupted on both sides of his head and he was howling. He felt liquid rush out of both ears. The nurses stopped moving at once to attend to him but that sudden jerk was all his stomach needed and he began convulsing in the dry heaves of an extraordinarily sick man who hadn't eaten solid food in days. He was violently trying to throw up and suddenly, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

When he awoke the second time, Ron found himself back in the same hospital room. There was now a clear plastic tube jutting painfully out of the back of his left hand, held into place by white tape. Hermione later told him it was there to give him fluids intravenously and keep him hydrated. He blinked his eyes in the bright sunlight bursting through the window. It was then that he noticed Harry and Hermione standing off to one side. He could see they were speaking to each other but to his mounting dismay, he still couldn't hear.

Hermione noticed his eyes were open and she tapped Harry's shoulder to interrupt him and alerted him to Ron's being awake. When Harry turned round, Ron decided they were both wearing hopeful expressions so he mustered a smile.

Hermione sat on Ron's bed her his hip and placed her hand gingerly on his, careful not to touch the tube that snaked from his hand up to a bag on a pole next to his bed. Ron traced the tubes' path up the pole with his eyes. The bag was filled with a liquid, pale pink in color. Ron watched it drip into the tube. He was a little afraid but also fascinated.

"This must be the way Dad feels when he sees Muggle stuff." He thought to himself

Harry had pulled a chair to the bedside opposite Hermione and placed a hand on Ron's knee. Ron turned his head saw Harry smile. Harry started to speak but turned to Hermione, who had tried to casually point to her ear to remind Harry. It was clear to Ron that he wasn't meant to see this exchange when Hermione blushed and pretended a little too late to be playing with her hair.

Ron grunted. He swallowed hard and his ears felt blocked. He thought if he could just blow his nose and change the pressure in his head, he'd be able to hear again. He started to plug his nose and Hermione jumped to stop him, shaking her head. He watched her mouth "Don't do that". He screwed up his face and groaned out loud.

"Why the fuck not?"

Hermione reached out to Harry, who handed her the pen and notepad from the nightstand. She wrote-

 _Your eardrums are both ruptured from the accident. They are giving you antibiotics-_

Hermione paused thoughtfully and crossed out that last word, replacing it with "a healing potion".

Ron rolled his eyes and chided her in his gruff voice-

"I know what bloody antibiotics are, Hermione! When will I get my hearing back?! Why am I in a Muggle hospital and when can I get the fuck out of here?!" He turned to Harry, a little more forcefully than he intended and felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder.

"And you" he said pointedly "what the fuck happened? Why weren't you on the sodding bus with me? Where's Griselda Dionne?" The name had flashed in his memory but he couldn't remember why it was important.

Harry and Hermione both appeared to apologize and held their hands out in front of Ron trying to get him to settle down. Ron sighed heavily, resigning himself. He nodded and his shoulder began to throb.

"Sorry." He said. "But I need some answers."

Hermione tapped his hand to draw his attention. She had written:

 _The hearing loss isn't permanent but it'll take time to heal. You might not get it back completely, but they're quite hopeful._

Ron let that sink in.

"How long until I heal?"

Hermione wrote as he watched.

 _2-3 months, hearing should return while you heal._

Ron groaned, it might as well be an eternity. Why was Muggle medicine so slow? As if she could read his thoughts, Hermione started writing again.

 _All injured passengers from the accident were brought here- you're in good hands. When they discharge you, I'll sort out your shoulder and your arm_

"Or we'll go to St. Mungo's – " Ron interrupted, laughing a little. He didn't want the future of his wand arm to be in Hermione's hands, however capable she was she wasn't a trained Healer. She cracked a smile and nodded.

"Can't they fix my ears faster at St. Mungo's?"

To Ron's further disappointment, Hermione shook her head. She wrote, her lips pursed, clearly searching for the right words.

 _They've already started treating you here._ _I contacted St. Mungo's and they said the Tinnitolus potion for your ears wouldn't work now you've been taking a Muggle treatment. The tympanic membrane is very delicate, they said to go forward with Muggle medicines and see a Healer if your hearing doesn't come back fully. They might be able to fix that._

Ron watched as Hermione finished writing. Even reading it wrong way up, he got the gist of it. She shook her hand out, tired from writing so fast.

"So, basically – I'm fucked for a bit then." Ron said resolutely.

Hermione laughed a little and sympathetically nodded her head. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek and then the mouth. She cuddled into his chest as Harry reached out for the notebook. Ron breathed in the comforting, soft scent of Hermione's lotion as Harry wrote.

 _I was on the bus. Don't you remember?_

Ron shook his head lightly. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling in concentration. He breathed deeply and tried to relax his mind. It was proving to be slightly easier than expected since he couldn't hear any ambient noises that would have ordinarily distracted him. He remembered watching the woman's shiny black hair swaying behind her as she walked down the street ahead of him. It was the height of the summer and very hot that day but she was dressed as if the temperature was at least 20 degrees lower. It was very easy to follow her because of her distinctive appearance amongst day trippers and students who were much more seasonally dressed. He kept at least 20 paces behind her and feigned window shopping, careful to not be observed. This went on for a while. He didn't remember Harry being around at all; all he remembered was keeping her hair in his peripheral vision as he followed her, then everything went to black.

Ron recounted this to Harry, who frowned. He opened his mouth to speak when he jumped out of his chair.

"Fuck, is that the time? I was supposed to be in the Minister's office 15 minutes ago." He patted his pockets in search of his wand, which he discovered had slipped under the cushion of the chair he'd been sitting in.

"Everything alright?" Hermione asked.

"It's fine but with Ron out of commission, I'm falling a tad bit behind in the investigation."

Hermione nodded her understanding.

"I'll try to get back tomorrow." Harry said as he waved goodbye. He Disapparated, leaving Ron feeling confused and depressed.

"I need out of this place, Mione." He said. "I've got to get back to work, I'm going to go mental." He said once he read Hermione's explanation of why Harry had to leave.

Another day and a half passed before Ron's hearing began to return. A few hours after it started, Ron yearned for silence. His ears were ringing so badly, he clamped his hands over his head and moaned.

"This is intolerable, Hermione. I can't go on like this." Hermione frowned and kissed him sweetly.

"I'm sorry, love. The doctors said this might happen- but it means you're healing!" Ron caught some of what she had said, but her voice was nearly drowned out by the clanging of bells that only he could hear.

Thankfully, the ringing didn't last very long and slowly, Ron was able to understand most of what was said to him. Harry continued stopping in to visit in the afternoons and tried jogging Ron's memory about the events leading up to the accident.

Three days after his hearing began to return, Ron interrupted Harry mid-sentence.

"Mione – answer something for me" he said.

"Hmm?" Hermione replied absentmindedly from behind a book.

"I've been eating and drinking but I haven't… _been."_ He said stressing the last word. Hermione peered at him from over the top of her book.

"What are you asking? Do you not…feel it?"

Ron blanched. Harry sunk down in his chair and suddenly became deeply invested in memorizing one of the hospitals smoking cessation brochures.

"I'll be sorry I asked this. But feel what?" Ron asked apprehensively.

Hermione's eyes drifted casually from his eyes to his groin. Ron's face drained of all remaining color as he lifted the bedsheets and moved his hospital gown aside.

"Oh what the sodding Muggle fuck is that?! Get it out! Get it out!" he yelped.

Harry continued to hide his face and was turning purple to suppress his laughter.

"Don't! Don't touch it! Let me get a nurse!" Hermione jumped up to stop Ron.

"I'm on it!" Harry said leaping up from his chair and out into the corridor.

"Hermione, let me be extra clear;" Ron said through gritted teeth. "Get this fucking thing – the fuck-out of my bell end."

Harry returned with a nurse a second later. She smiled at them all pleasantly. She had a fair complexion and light brown hair secured in a long, neat plait down her back. She was younger and better looking than Ron would have preferred in light of the sensitive topic.

"Well now, Mr. Weasley, your brother here says you'd like the catheter removed."

Ron's ears burned red with embarrassment.

"Erm – yes please."

"Okay, well I'll make a note in your chart so when your doctor comes round today, he'll discuss it with you. Don't worry if he doesn't say yes straight away. Dizziness and problems with equilibrium are quite common in patients with injuries such as yours. We can't have you fainting on the way to the toilet." She sounded altogether too cheerful as she said this.

"Erm – all right then." Ron said grimly.

"If you feel any discomfort, let me know and I'll give you something to take the edge off. Can I get you anything now?"

Ron lifted his chin to look at the ceiling. He thought he'd die of embarrassment, but he couldn't think of other words to use in rephrasing his question.

"Will it – erm, work? I mean – um…my…you know…"

The nurse smiled, mercifully, she understood.

"You'll be just fine. You'll have total function, there's only a slim chance of any sort of lasting erectile issues – it's very rare. You'll need to take it easy for a bit, but you'll be full steam ahead before you know it." She smiled and shot a quick wink to Hermione before she left the room.

Ron thought for a moment that his hearing had gone again. Harry cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"Well. That is officially the longest conversation that I ever want to have about your penis" He said.

The three laughed heartily, until Ron raised his hand to quiet them. His facial expression changed rapidly from laughing to horror.

"Oh no. Oh fucking hell…no…" he said quietly.

"What's wrong?" Hermione yelped.

"Harry – she called you my brother…"

"We had to tell them he was a relative so he could visit." Hermione explained, sitting on Ron's bed facing him.

"Yeah we figure because of this, they reckon I'm adopted" Harry joked ruffling his black mop of hair.

"And anyway, Harry and Ginny are talking about getting married and then he'll be your brother." Hermione was looking at him quizzically. She couldn't understand why he'd brought it up.

"I have brothers." Ron said

"What are you getting at?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, slightly annoyed.

"Harry. Hermione." Ron said looking at each of them. "George can never, _never_ know about this."

Harry and Hermione both chuckled and exchanged looks.

"Oh God, of course not!" Hermione laughed.

"I wouldn't even joke about telling George! Shit – he'd never let you hear the end of it. Ever. My god. For the rest of our lives, it would be nothing but cocks and tubes…" Harry said sounding serious.

Shortly after lunch that day, the doctor came in holding Ron's chart and pushing a machine on wheels that Ron recognized from previous hearing tests.

"How are we feeling today, Ron?" he said cheerfully. He was a rotund man of about 45 years old. He stared at Ron over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. Hermione thought he looked rather like a young Professor Slughorn. He rested one of his hands on his paunch as he spoke.

"Very ready to get this thing out of my cock." Ron said bluntly.

"I don't blame you, it's not very pleasant is it?" the doctor replied jokingly, the apples of his cheeks turning rosy. Ron shook his head.

The doctor pushed his glasses up on top of his head as he spoke.

"The only concern I have is for your equilibrium. We'd have taken it out as soon as you woke up but with these sorts of inner ear injuries, you run quite a risk of getting lightheaded and falling down. You've already got quite the collection of broken bones and a concussion, I don't believe adding a subdural hematoma from a fall would be good for you. But quite honestly, I've never seen a ruptured tympanic membrane heal as quickly as yours. Let's take a look and see about getting you on your feet."

Ron wiggled up in bed to sit up taller as the doctor approached him with an otoscope and sat patiently while the doctor checked both sides and made notations on the clipboard. He didn't say much other than to click his tongue and say something under his breath that sounded like "remarkable".

He then handed Ron a set of earphones and proceeded with the hearing test. Ron concentrated and raised his hands to indicate on which side he heard a series of beeps. A few minutes later, the doctor removed the headphones and nodded, making more notes.

"I have to say Ron, you're doing extraordinarily well. I've never seen anyone heal as swiftly as this. I'm going to have you stand and walk a bit. If you don't get lightheaded, I don't see why we can't remove it. Sound good?"

"That's a plan" Ron said smiling nervously.

The doctor asked Harry to stand on Ron's right.

"If this goes tits up Harry, you'd better catch me." Ron laughed.

Hermione helped Ron move the sheets aside as he swung his feet to the floor. He flexed his feet and stretched his calves. He wiggled his toes as they hit the cold floor. He rotated his good shoulder as his straightened his back. Hermione edged back to the window watching nervously.

"Slowly now, whenever you're ready, give it a go." The doctor said, folding his arms across his chest.

Ron pushed himself up and with Harry's help he stood and wobbled slightly.

"There you are," the doctor said. "Slowly now, shuffle your feet."

Ron nodded and slowly shuffled a few steps, Harry standing very closely, ready to grab him if he lost balance.

"Any dizziness at all?" the doctor asked. Hermione had made her way around the edge of the room and was standing behind the doctor near the door.

"Just a little shaky in my legs, my head's fine." Ron said, shuffling closer to the bathroom door.

The doctor nodded knowingly. "That's from disuse, I believe. Very well done. Now carefully turn round and come back this way. We'll get that out for you."

Harry stepped in a bit closer to help Ron turn without getting tangled in any of the wires or tubes he was attached to. Harry averted his eyes as Ron's hospital gown was open at the back and his bottom was in full view.

"I'm warning you Harry, you breathe a word of this to Georgie or anyone else, and you're dead where you stand." Ron said threateningly. He was still shuffling slowly toward back the bed.

Harry winked at Hermione over his shoulder and made a show of sneaking a look at Ron's bottom and gave it a pinch.

"I've always wondered what you saw in this moody, freckled, ginger git, Hermione. Now I know. It's quite a cute bum isn't it?" Harry joked. Hermione tossed her hair back and laughed.

"Get fucked, ya specky tosser." Ron replied.

Harry laughed again. "Blimey, Ron you've got freckles everywhere, mate. I don't remember seeing all of these in the shower room at school…"

"Now, now boys, settle down." The doctor laughed. "I'll take it from here."

Harry stepped back as Hermione helped Ron get into bed. "I'll let you handle this next bit." He kissed her on the cheek and waved to Ron before leaving.

Hermione rang him later that night from the hospital and thanked him for his help.

"Well of course, Hermione. Any chance to see Ron's bare arse and give him hell about it…" Harry joked.

Hermione laughed and after a moment said, "So, this investigation." She felt Harry's mood change.

"Yeah. It's not going well at all. To be honest with you, I need Ron. I can't do this without him." Harry replied.

"Well that's a lovely sentiment, Harry but I'm sure there are other Aurors in your office who can stand in until he'd well enough." She replied.

"No, it's got to be Ron. He needs to recover his memory from before the accident." Harry said seriously.

"Harry, he's got a concussion – a brain injury – he might not ever remember exactly what happened. It might be beyond even magic to get that memory back."

Harry grunted. "We've got to try. Did they say when he's coming home?"

"He's well enough to come home in the morning. I managed to find a Ministry building with a fireplace connected to the Floo Network a few blocks away but Harry, he's not to return to active duty any time soon. His arm is in very bad shape, he can't hold a wand very well, let alone use it. We're going back home so he can rest." Hermione said defensively.

"Hermione – " Harry started to say.

"Absolutely not, Harry." Hermione said, trying to keep her voice hushed. "The Minister himself can show up in our flat to demand Ron return straightaway and the answer would still be no. He could have been killed in that accident."

Harry tried to think of an argument but he saw no point in getting Hermione worked up, he could hear that tone in her voice that meant she wasn't going to relent. He'd have to concede the point for the evening. They said good night and Harry paced the four walls of the Ministry safe house in Belfast where he'd been staying with Ron while they followed Griselda Dionne and the crime syndicate she was a part of. He got a shiver and wrapped himself in a blanket on the bed. If Ron didn't remember what happened before the accident, Harry had no idea how far back they'd be set. He opened his notebook and reviewed his notes for the hundredth time, hoping that by some miracle, Ron would remember something during the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning Harry knocked on the office door of the Head Auror with great trepidation.

"Come in, Potter." Arturo Wayfolt's voice was neither welcoming nor foreboding. Harry entered and shut the door behind him.

"May I sit, sir?" he asked.

Wayfolt peered at Harry over a stack of parchment he was examining and nodded.

"How's Weasley fairing?" he asked without ever lifting his eyes from the parchment he was reading.

"Much better thanks, sir." Harry said as he sat down in the stiff-backed armchair. He'd decided before the meeting that he wouldn't elaborate on details of Ron's condition unless specifically asked.

"Good. Glad to hear it. He's a good man and a fine Auror. One of our best. Has he remembered anything yet?"

Harry frowned. "No sir, not yet."

Wayfolt looked conflicted.

"Nothing whatever?"

Shaking his head, Harry said "Very little. He remembers following Griselda Dionne but his memory is very spotty. I reckon a Healer might be able to help him once he's out of Muggle hospital."

"He may have better luck with a Legilimens." Wayfolt suggested.

Harry nodded, "That has been suggested, yes sir. I think the issue is, his memory was not harmed by magic so magical means may not work to recover what he's forgotten." Harry tried to remember the exact words Hermione used to explain it.

"Potter. To say that I'm displeased with you would be a gargantuan understatement. We've spent countless man hours and hundreds of galleons on this investigation. I know you're used to a certain amount of consideration due to your celebrity status but – "

"My _what?"_ Harry interrupted. "Sir, I have never relied on any sort of –" his knuckles were turning white from gripping the armrests of his chair.

"Calm down, calm down, Potter." Wayfolt said. "You have been famous in our world since you were a toddler, I expect you're rather used to – "

"Enough!" Harry shouted. "Do you think I like being me? Do you think I don't wish that I'd have grown up with a proper family? I would have done anything to hand all that responsibility over to someone else. I knew that as long as Voldemort lived, I'd be hunted and no one I cared for would be safe. They called me the Chosen One and the truth is, Voldemort is the one who chose me. He easily could have chosen someone else and I could have grown up with my fucking parents. Maybe I'd have siblings too."

Harry leapt out of the chair and stood next to it. He pointed at Wayfolt as he spoke.

"For you to insinuate that I'm somehow lax in my work because I feel the world owes me some sort of debt – that's absolute bullshit. And it's insulting. I wish I could have grown up a normal wizard, going home on school holidays to spend time with my parents. Ron's brother Fred died in the War, Sir. Along with countless others. Dora and Remus Lupin died; leaving behind my infant godson. I became an Auror as a tribute to them, not because I like playing the bloody hero."

Harry's fists were clenched and he was glaring at Wayfolt across the desk. Wayfolt sat back in his chair and lifted his chin. Harry couldn't read his facial expression.

Harry softened his tone a bit before speaking again.

"What happened to Ron was my fault. I got off the bus to follow another suspect – we thought Griselda was partnered with someone and she got off the bus first. I had a split second to react and I followed her. The suspect saw me and cast a jinx. I got out of the way and the jinx hit the bus driver through an open window. She aimed another curse at me and it tipped the bus over completely. If I'd followed protocol and stayed with my partner, Ron wouldn't be laying in hospital with a cocked up memory. I followed my instinct and I was wrong."

Harry's heart was pounding with rage. Wayfolt hadn't reacted much to anything he'd said, his face as inscrutable as ever.

"Potter…" Wayfolt said carefully. "I meant no disrespect. The Wizarding World, the Muggle world – we all _do_ owe you a debt. You said it yourself. The Dark Lord chose you and you beat him. I knew Dora Lupin. She was…" his voice quavered ever so slightly, "very gifted, she was special. Nevertheless, you did make an error in judgement in this investigation. I don't feel I'm being any harder on you than I would be on Weasley if your places were reversed. There is a ring of dark wizards and witches running around Belfast and this investigation is ongoing. I do not have infinite time or patience. I am not going to reassign this case, we can't afford the time lost to catch another team up. I am also not going to give you any one else to work with. If you have not made progress by the time Weasley is ready to return, I will send him to Belfast to meet you. Until then, you're on your own."

The way he ended his sentence indicated to Harry that it was time to walk out of the office. He gave Wayfolt a quick nod and shut the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Ron was released from hospital a day later. The doctor had warned him his ears were healing well but still delicate. He was also told to avoid strenuous activity because of his other injuries. Hermione felt a bit more relaxed as soon as she'd gotten Ron settled back into their flat.

"It's so good to be home." Ron said reclining on the sofa. Hermione propped his broken arm up on a pillow and brought him a bowl of chicken soup, which he gratefully ate and asked for another.

"I'm glad we were able to use the Floo Network. I thought we'd have to wait until your ears were mended and fly. Are you in pain?" Hermione asked lovingly running her hands through his hair.

"Nah, I'm good thanks. When d'ya reckon I can see a Healer about my arm?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "We can go to St. Mungo's tomorrow if you're up to it."

"I'm dying to get this fucking plaster off. My arm is itchy as fuck." Ron whinged.

"I broke my wrist once. I remember how itchy I felt." Hermione remarked.

"I didn't know that. When did that happen?" Ron asked.

"I was eight or nine. I fell out of a tree."

Ron made a grunt of surprise. "Why in the world was eight year old Hermione Granger up a tree?"

She smiled. "I'm pretty sure I was trying to retrieve a kite or something. I can't remember. Anyway, I fell out and landed right on my wrist. I still remember the cracking sound it made." She lightly rubbed her left wrist.

"At least it was your left hand," Ron offered sweetly. "I'm hopeless without my right hand. I tried casting spells this morning but I can't hold my wand properly, I can't do anything. I feel such a Squib."

"Aww poor Ron can't even masturbate properly…" Hermione said teasingly.

Ron shrugged his good shoulder. "That as well. I told you, I'm hopeless with my left hand." A pink embarrassed flush rose up in his cheeks. Hermione raised an eyebrow and he thought for a moment he saw a wicked smirk on her face.

"What? What was that?" Ron asked half laughing.

"Hmm? Oh, _nothing…_ " she replied. He watched her suck on her lower lip a moment.

"Oh really? Nothing? Is that why you suddenly look devious?"

Hermione smirked and turned from him. She spun back around again and was pointing her wand right at his face.

"What the fu-" he began to yelp.

" _Immobilus!_ "

Hermione looked down at Ron, now fully aware of his surroundings but wholly incapable of moving. She bit her bottom lip again and slowly dropped to her knees.

Never breaking eye contact with him, she reached over and opened his jeans. She ran her hand lightly back and forth across the lightly freckled skin just above the waistband of his pants.

"You honestly didn't think I wasn't going to take advantage of you being home, did you? You're away so much. I miss you." Her voice was a low purring moan.

She reached down into his pants and raked her nails in his pubic hair. His cock was unmoving along with the rest of his body but she knew he could feel everything. She closed her fist around him and stroked him softly while she watched his eyes of blue fire burn in pleasured anguish.

"We haven't had sex in _ages_." She was stroking him harder.

"Seeing you immobile in hospital got me thinking." Her voice got breathy. "I was wondering what it'd be like to make you cum if you couldn't move."

Ron tried with all his might to fight the spell off but it felt so good. She knew exactly the pace to keep to keep his orgasm at bay. She wanted it to last.

Hermione leaned over a bit more and touched the tip of her tongue to the head of Ron's cock. He grunted as best he could without being able to move his vocal chords. She winked and took him into her mouth.

Ron slowly regained his ability to move, it felt like warm water was suddenly replacing his blood as the feeling returned to his limbs. He moved his left hand to Hermione's hair as her head bobbed up and down on him. He slowly pumped his hips upward.

Without looking up at him first, Hermione pushed his hand out of her hair and pinned it against the back of the sofa.

Ron moaned loudly and came down her throat.

"Fucking hell woman, warn me next time…" he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He tried to adjust positions on the sofa but gave up when the pain in his arm and shoulder began to pulsate.

She wiped her hand on her sleeve. "No, I don't think I will actually."

They shared a passionate look and she leaned down to kiss him.

"I should almost die _a lot_ more often." He said softly to her.

"Or maybe I should just immobilize you more." She replied.


End file.
